Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Elise looks as if she’s been crying, her eyes red and swollen, but when she sees Angelina, her whole face lights up. “No. No! You came!”
Angelina runs to her. She goes to clasp her friend’s hands but finds them secured in handcuffs.
“Ah,” she says with a wry smile. “So they’ve given you the gilded cage, have they?”
Elise’s widened eyes swing to mine in alarm as if expecting my wrath. Angelina only laughs. “Oh, he has a temper alright, but won’t get angry for me stating the truth.” Elise only watches me warily.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she says to Angelina. “I can’t—”
Her eyes fall to Angelina’s swollen abdomen, and she gives an audible gasp, bringing her cuffed hands to her mouth. “Are you…”
“Pregnant with a little mobster baby? Oh yeah.”
I give her a teasing smack to the ass. Fucking adorable.
Angelina sits on the edge of the bed, the only place to sit in the small confines of the room. I stand by the window, giving them a little space.
“I suppose privacy isn’t gonna happen,” Elise mutters.
“Yeah, no,” Angelina agrees. “But he’s my husband, Elise. And you can trust Orlando.”
Elise snorts. “Trust? We can’t use the words trust when we talk of any of the Rossis. Angelina, have they brainwashed you?”
Oh, Tavi will have some fun with this one.
They talk about what happened, at length. Elise wants to make sure Angelina’s really alright, and it warms my heart to hear Angelina assuring her that she is. They talk of Elise’s escape, and both cry when they talk about her bodyguard Piero’s death. Elise stares out the window mournfully. “He died for me,” she whispers.
Angelina reaches for her hand and gives her a little squeeze. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
I wonder if she’ll ever hold a candle for my brother, knowing that he was responsible for Piero’s death. I wonder if that matters.
It amuses me to hear Angelina talking to Elise about our family, what’s expected, what she’s learned. “They’re nothing like your father, Elise. Nothing.”
Elise seems unmoved.
Finally, I tell Angelina we need to go now. They’ve talked at length, and I won’t trespass on Tavi’s need to confine and punish his prisoner. He won’t wait long to take vows. He’ll want to move quickly to solidify our treaty with the Regazzas. And he, along with me, will want to fortify our own family with the bond of marriage and children.
The women embrace as we take our leave. Angelina bows her head and holds my hand.
“It’s an end of an era, isn’t it?” she asks quietly.
“Ah, I don’t know about an era.” My father’s death was an end of an era. “But I guess you could say another chapter’s begun.”
We walk hand in hand, the two of us bearing the painful wounds of love, loss, and tragedy, but finding solace and comfort in each other.
“Let’s make it a good one, Orlando,” she says with that confidence and conviction that make me love her so. “Our story. Our chapter. Let’s make it a good one.”
I kiss her cheek. “Once upon a time…”
EPILOGUE
“Be not afraid of greatness.” ~Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
Angelina
“Shhh,” Angelina says when I open the door to the nursery. Unlike other women in our extended family, Angelina has forgone any help from a nanny or maid. She says she’s waited long enough for a child of her own, and she’ll relish every minute.
And even though sometimes she’s tired and weary from keeping up with the late-night feedings and around-the-clock diaper changes, I know she wouldn’t have it any other way.
With a large, bustling family like ours, we’ve decided to stay at The Castle for the first few months anyway. I’ll take her to Tuscany and we’ll spend time in Boston proper as well. But for now, it’s nice having dozens of sets of arms that will gladly take a turn with the endless rocking and soothing.
Nicolo Lorenzo Rossi came into this world screaming, making his presence known, and even as an infant, my son is a force to be reckoned with.
My son.
“You ready?” She wears a gorgeous champagne-colored dress that accents her curves, silver heels completing her look.
“I am.” She turns to me and raises her eyebrows. “And you look pretty damn good yourself.” She whistles low so she doesn’t wake the baby. “Hubba hubba.”
It’s the day of our son’s baptism, a Rossi family tradition that spans the ages, and our entire extended family has come to celebrate. It’s the first time many of them will meet my son and wife. My chest might burst from pride.
Elise Regazza is still a prisoner, though she spends so much time with Angelina and the baby it hardly feels like it. Tavi keeps a watchful eye on her. I was surprised at first he was so insistent on her being held captive as long as he has, but he’s a patient sort, and unyielding as fuck. “I won’t have a wife who doesn’t know her place,” he said to me one day. My father would be proud.